That Dating Thing (3 page)

A smile twitched his lips and he shook his head at her unapologetic audacity. He pointed at the empty bowls on the coffee table. “Was the soup your creation or your niece’s?”

“Rylee was the chef today, but I did teach her everything she knows.”

“Then I’ll be back.”

“A charmer,” she drawled. “Just like your daddy.”

Coop followed Rylee out of the condo and across the balcony circling the second floor of the building. The reconfigured two-story warehouse consisted of six luxury condos, three on each floor, forming a U. The center-front of the building contained a charming, park-like courtyard. With stunning views of the city at the back and access to the lush common area facing the street, he could understand Elliott’s desire to own a unit at River View. What Coop didn’t get was how Elliott managed the price tag. But the one time he had asked after the down payment, Elliott answered with a vague, “I shuffled a few things around.”

Rylee bypassed the metal-caged elevator at the center of the balcony, heading for one of the two curving stairways leading to the courtyard. She skipped down the steps like a schoolgirl heading to her next class. Coop followed more sedately, his eyes on the seductive roll of her hips. On the ground floor, she stopped at the door below Elliott’s and pressed a key into the lock. A distant barking echoed inside.

“Have you got a kennel in there?” Coop stopped by her side.

She opened the door, that intriguing dimple winking in her smile. “Actually, I do.”

One of the kennel’s occupants drew Coop’s attention, appearing from behind the door. The sleek Boxer eyed Coop, its cropped ears flicked forward in interest above watchful, mahogany eyes and a blunt muzzle.

“The infamous Pippin?” Coop guessed.

Rylee widened the opening and scrubbed a hand between the dog’s ears. “This is Annabelle, my roommate. Say hello to Coop, Belle.”

Belle immediately dropped to her haunches. Coop hesitated, feeling foolish, and then accepted the dog’s offered paw. After a single pump, he let go.

“You run the dog thing from your home?”

“Are you asking out of curiosity or as a government official?”

Prickly
and
beautiful…

“I left my government-official hat at the office.”

She chuckled. “The building is zoned for business and since it’s only Belle and me, I have the room. A separate business entrance is located around back along with a patch of lawn where we work the dogs and their owners.”

He nodded. “Can I ask you a question?”

“That depends.” The subtle wariness in her eyes didn’t quite match the cheekiness of her response. “If you’re asking for tips on how to get your puppy to stop eating your briefcases, I’ll have to charge you a consultant’s fee.”

“I’m puppy-less at the moment.” He grinned, and then lifted his eyebrows incredulously. “Briefcases?”

“You’d be surprised what dogs find appetizing.”

He shook his head in wonder. “No, I don’t need any dog advice. I wanted to ask how long my father has been seeing your aunt.”

“Five months.” When he frowned, she asked, “Why? Is there a problem?”

“Not exactly. I just know the colonel. Your aunt seems like a nice woman. I wouldn’t want to see her hurt.”

“Why would she be hurt?”

“Six months is about Elliott’s limit.” His remark sounded harsh, but then the truth often was. “That’s about the time he usually walks away.”

“I don’t think that will be the case this time.”

“For your aunt’s sake, I hope that’s true, but…” He shrugged.

Her gaze darted to the landing above. She said nothing for a long moment, cocking her head to study him as though she was struggling to make up her mind about something. Those dark eyes, so clearly assessing, sent blood racing from his head and upper body to gather below his waist. He drew a slow breath at the pleasant rush of arousal.

“That won’t be the case this time,” she repeated with firm resolve.

He cleared his throat. “And you know this because?”

Utter confidence filled her tight smile. “Because…if Elliott even thinks of walking away from Sil, he’ll have to deal with
me
.”

Chapter Three

“You what?”

“I married her.”

Holding the phone to his ear, Coop straightened from the open file on his desk to sprawl back in the chair.

“Did you hear me?”

“I heard you, Dad. I just don’t believe you.”

“I married Silvia Burke three days ago,” Elliott repeated, his voice hard with resolve.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”

“Because I’m in love with her.”

Coop snorted. “Right. What happens when the next babe comes along and you decide you’re in love with her? You have a short attention span with women, but at least you haven’t married any of them. Not since…”

“Since your mother?” Elliott finished.

Coop frowned. He rarely thought of the woman who gave birth to him, much less discussed her with his father. Claudia Reed made her choice, walking away without a backward glance, and though Elliott stuck around, doing his best to raise their son, Coop divided the blame for their broken marriage evenly. Whatever other problems were between his parents, Elliott’s womanizing played a large part in their breakup.

“My
mother
has little to do with this, but while we’re on the subject, that didn’t work out very well, did it?”

“Coop.” Elliott sighed. “Claudia and I were young and stupid. Selfish too, in our own ways. You and I have never really discussed what happened—”

“And I don’t see the need now,” Coop interrupted.

“No, I don’t suppose you would.” Elliott paused. “I’ll simply say this. I never remarried after your mother because, although I’ve loved many of the women I’ve known over the years, I was never
in
love with them.”

“Give me a break, Colonel. You sound like a greeting card.”

“You don’t exactly live the life of a monk, yourself,” Elliott mocked, “so you know what it is to love women. But what you don’t know is that when the
right
woman comes along, everything changes.”

Coop dropped his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Dad.”

“Congratulations would be a good start.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Congratulations.”

Elliott chuckled at Coop’s dry tone. “One last thing. You have your doubts. Nothing I can do about that, but Sil is important to me. I’d like for you to get to know her.”

“Dad,” Coop started to object. His childhood memories were filled with the faces of women Elliott brought around for Coop to get to know, only so the colonel could move on to the next, right about the time Coop became attached. He hated the familiar, oily nausea those memories produced.

“I married Silvia, Coop,” Elliott said as though reading Coop’s mind. “I’m not asking you to welcome her with open arms, just to keep an open mind and give me the chance to prove this time, this woman, is different.”

“I’m not a little boy anymore and you don’t need my approval.”

“But I want your approval, son, and Silvia is innocent in our conflicts. She wants to get to know you. Give her a chance, please. Give
us
a chance.”

Unsure if Elliott was referring to the relationship he shared with Silvia, or the one they shared as father and son, Coop remained silent, scraping a hand over his face.

“Sil wanted me to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. Will you come?”

A soft knock on the open office door drew Coop’s attention. He opened his eyes and straightened, waving in the familiar blond giant. Tim Watson crossed the room to the seat across from Coop’s desk.

“Why not,” he said into the phone. “What time?”

“Six.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, son,” Elliott said quietly.

“I’ll see you then.” Coop disconnected the call, unconvinced of his father’s sincerity, but intrigued all the same.

“Welcome back.” Tim’s forbidding face, complete with a bulbous nose bearing the signs of a youth spent on the mean streets of Detroit, wore an easy smile. A lawyer by degree, Tim’s true gift was his uncanny talent for sniffing out details others often missed. More than two decades with the D.A.’s office and he’d yet to argue a case, a circumstance the entire office found more than acceptable. As head of the investigative department, his fingerprints were on most of the files in the building, contributing to the impressive conviction rate the office enjoyed.

The older man’s sleuthing abilities were instrumental in the prosecution of Coop’s first case, when the incumbent D.A. took a chance on a decorated marine’s son whose bar results were still sticky with wet ink. Coop won the case, and in return, Tim earned Coop’s gratitude and respect. Eight years later, Tim and his wife, Lilly, were Coop’s closest friends.

“How’d it go?”

A moment passed before Coop realized Tim referred to his Chicago trip to secure extradition of the man responsible for a string of fires resulting in at least two fatalities, and not the bizarre conversation he’d just shared with his father. He picked up a file, leaning forward to hand it across the desk.

“They’re willing to extradite unless the victim of his latest fire dies, but the prognosis looks good.”

“That’s what we wanted to hear.” Tim opened the file to skim the top page.

“Yeah.”

Tim locked onto Coop’s face. “It’s good news. So why do you look like you just caught your girlfriend in bed with another man?”

Coop scrubbed a hand over his jaw, bristly with the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow. “My father was hit by a truck three days ago.”

“Damn.” Tim straightened in the chair. “Sorry, Coop. Is he okay?”

“Bumps and bruises, concussion and a broken foot. He’ll be sore for a while, but it looks like he’ll be fine.”

“And?” Tim prompted, handing back the file.

Coop set it aside and absently clicked a pen on and off with his thumb. “And he got married.”

“The colonel got married?” Surprise made Tim’s thick blond brows slam together to form one bushy slash.

“He claims he’s in love with her.”

Tim shook his head. “Your dad has blown through a lot of women over the years, but he didn’t marry any of them. Maybe he is.”

Coop grunted, hearing his father’s sentiment echoed in his friend’s reasoning.

“Who is she? Have you met her?”

“About an hour ago. Her name is Silvia Burke. She runs a dog training service.”

“A dog trainer? How did he meet her?”

“Her niece owns his building and lives downstairs. She and Silvia run the dog thing together.”

“A dog trainer who owns a building in Long Island City?”

Coop nodded. “That was my exact reaction. Apparently the building was part of an inheritance.”

“You want me to check her out? Silvia, I mean, not the niece. Off the books, of course, on my own time.”

Conscious of the legal considerations inherent in his position, Coop never broke the rules. In the process of doing his job, Tim often balanced precariously on the blade of justice, but Coop never had reason to doubt his ethics. He wasn’t surprised by the private offer.

“I hadn’t thought that far.” He
had
thought far enough to know he would be checking out the niece through a closer, much more personal inspection. The renewed tightening of his stomach muscles made him smile. “But checking her out might not be a bad idea. Dad may not be loaded by Manhattan standards, especially since buying the condo, but he’s not exactly broke.”

“What do you know about her?”

“Not much, other than her name. I assume she lives in the area, but you couldn’t tell by listening to her. Deep south I’d say, from her Scarlett O’Hara accent.”

“A southern belle?”

Coop chuckled, seeing again his father’s bride in his mind’s eye. He tipped back in his chair. “She’s a little hard to describe. Her mode of dress is straight out of the sixties, but I’d put her at closer to forty-five or fifty.”

“What about the niece? If I run into trouble, I may have to cross-reference to get a hit.”

“Rylee Pierce, mid-to-late twenties. She owns the dog training service. The Canine Academy. You can start there.”

“Silvia Burke,” Tim repeated. “I’ve heard that name somewhere.” His eyes grew unfocused as he stared into inner space. He snapped his fingers. “Isn’t Silvia Burke the administrator of The Adam’s House Foundation?”

“The military charity?”

“That’s the one. They’ve been advertising their big Fourth of July fundraiser over on Roosevelt Island.”

Coop tapped the pen against the edge of the desk, considering his impression of his father’s gypsy wife before sitting forward. “Dad’s Silvia runs the dog service with her niece. That must be a different Silvia Burke.”

“I’ll see what I can find.” Tim pushed to his feet. “The colonel married,” he repeated, shaking his head.

****

Rylee let herself inside Elliot’s condo, waggling her pointed finger in front of Pippin’s nose in the sign for quiet. Beside him, Belle was the picture of patience. The Boxer’s serene temperament tended to calm the ten-month-old Great Dane, and for this exercise, Rylee needed all the help she could get. In her opinion, a good portion of Pippin’s behavioral problems stemmed from a hypersensitivity to the emotions of his handler. Tension, whether positive or negative, flipped Pippin’s switch.

The coming conversation should have him bouncing off the walls.

What were Elliott and Sil up to, and why didn’t Elliott want his son to know they were married? The song and dance they performed earlier didn’t bode well for Sil’s future happiness, especially considering Coop’s comments before he left.

Rylee liked Elliott. What’s more, she owed him for resurrecting the spark missing in Sil since Adam’s death, three days after he’d arrived in Afghanistan, eight years ago. While her cousin’s death left a hole in Rylee, losing her son had flattened Sil. Since meeting Elliott, Sil’s natural buoyancy had returned. If Elliot hurt her by being less than they believed him to be…